


The Next Great Adventure

by Arithra



Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Horcruxes, Kings Cross, M/M, meetings after death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: Albus watches as Harry returns to the world of the living, and wishes for the best. He did not expect to be approached by the Dark Lord's former Right Hand. The time for explanations had come.Or: Three conversations that take place in the space between life and death.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & James Potter, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/225602
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	The Next Great Adventure

Albus Dumbledore watched as Harry Potter faded back to life and gave sad sight. It hurt him to send the boy back, knowing that while he believed that Harry would be victorious, that a lot of pain and heartbreak awaited him.

War was never easy, but neither was its aftermath.

But Albus knew that Harry was strong, he would shine and finally find the happiness he deserved.

Absorbed it him musing, he did not notice that he was no longer alone with the Dark Lord’s Horcrux until he noticed that the crying had stopped.

Curious what could have caused it to stop wailing, he turned around.

The sight before him made him stop and stare.

He remembered the young man who had come to Hogwarts many years ago, burdened by a terrible childhood and the loss of his loved ones.

He remembers as the boy slowly but surely began to find his place in Hogwarts, and to Albus’ grief, at the rising dark Lord’s side.

He remembered the declaration of war, years before it officially started and the sadness with which it was delivered.

He remembered the Dark Lords right hand, a man capable of horrendous cruelly and awe inspiring magic. A necromancer without equal.

Harold Evans, his hair, speckled with grey, which a wizard of his age and power should not have, shielding his face from view, kneeling on the ground before the bench and holding the dark Lord’s Horcrux gently in his arms.

“Harold.”

The younger man looked up and Albus’ blue eyes met the dark wizard’s green ones. They were familiar to him, he could not quite place it, but he was sure he had seen eyes very much like Harold’s before on another person.

Harold smiled while he got to his feet, the Horcrux tucked securely in his arms.

“Albus. It has been quite some time.”

His voice was tinted with irony that Albus did not understand.

“That it has… I survived you by almost seventeen years, didn’t I.”

The other man nodded and started to gently rock the Horcrux which was beginning to look more and more like a baby.

“We never found out what happened to you, my boy. There had been no injuries reported and even my spy had no idea what was ailing you.”

Harold chuckled.

“Young Severus, mhm?”

Albus did not reply, and the man laughed.

“Will you believe me, Albus Dumbledore, when I tell you that I was quite aware that Severus Snape was one of yours?”

The old wizard could hear the truth in that statement, but for the life of him did not know why the Dark Lord’s right hand would keep such a secret to himself.

“Well, it does not matter…”

Harold shrugged and walked over to Dumbledore before taking a seat next to him, while he did so the older one got a good view on the soul piece.

It looked almost like a normal human baby now.

Then the baby met Dumbledore’s blue eyes with his red ones and started to cry.

Harold started to rock it back and forth again, humming softly and the thing quieted down again only to coo up at the man, who had once been his most trusted.

Its actions brought a smile to the wizard’s face. A smile full of sadness, longing and love.

A rather curious realization dawned on Dumbledore and his mind was working as fast as it could to add the new information into the things he already knew.

“Nothing ailed me.” Harold’s voice startled his companion from his thoughts, and it took him a moment to realize that the other one was responding to a question he had posed some time ago and never quite received and answer for.

“It was simply my time to die, and it was a great relief.”

“A relief?”

Harold nodded stroking the hair of the now silent babe in his arms absently. Albus noted that the soul piece seemed to lean into the touch.

“I never feared death, Albus Dumbledore. Unlike Tom, I did not believe that death was something to be feared.”

“Because you are a necromancer?”

The younger man shook his head, and his lips curled in amusement.

“No, though I suppose it did allow me a rather unique outlook on death. I had made my peace with the thought of dying long before I studied necromancy.”

Harold looked up and met Dumbledore’s eyes. Green eyes, so very green sparkled with humor.

“Death is nothing but the next great adventure after all.”

Those words struck a chord in Albus, and he found his eyes widening as a strange mixture of surprise and horror overcame him.

“Harry…”

Harold smiled. It was an open almost fond smile. The similarities were suddenly painstakingly clear, and he wondered why he had never realized it.

He had known Harold Evans at seventeen after all, just as he knew Harry Potter.

“Yes.”

“How and why? Why did you do those things? Why did you travel back to that time? Was the war lost?”

Harry shook his head and suddenly he looked younger. More like the young Harold Evans Albus had met many years ago in Hogwarts. And so very much like Harry Potter. The Horcrux giggled and Harry pressed a soft kiss on its forehead.

“The war will be won. Voldemort will die when the killing curse rebounds as the Elder wand refuses to turn against his true master.”

Harold was silent for a moment.

“You see, it was all the blasted wand fault. I destroyed it and the backslash caused me to land in 1944. I did not plan it really, though at the same time I did…”

He trailed of staring into space, still rocking back and forth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The grin on the other man’s face was a marauders grin.

“Well I got a letter from my dad, the only person I ever told who I was by the way, the letter held a message from Harold to Harry, telling him to destroy the wand. James wrote that he was proud of the man I would be, so when I saw you back then I gave you a name that was very curious in my eyes. I mean Harry is a short form of Harold and Evans was my mums maiden name. I thought it was just a coincidence and you would tell me, that there already was a Harold Evans… It would have been the perfect opening…”

“There wasn’t though.”

Harry nodded.

“Exactly. That when I understood. It was just like that time in my third year when Hermione and I used the timeturner and I saw myself casting the patronus.

Albus eyes widened in realization.

“A paradox.”

Again, Harry nodded.

“Yes, that meant that Harold Evans had always been Harry Potter, and since I already knew who Harold Evans would be…”

He trailed off.

Dumbledore nodded sagely. He understood, there was nothing Harry could have done and it must have been terrible for the boy.

“Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time.”

He was startled however when Harold – Harry? - snorted, causing the baby in his arms to wake up and cry again.

Harry calmed it down, cradling it lovingly and murmuring quietly until it calmed down again, only then did he answer.

“Not, that it bothered me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I thought that the paradox could go tell hell. Why should I care what happened to me when there were so many lives I could save? Whatever the consequences, I would take them gladly if it meant protecting the people I love.”

Nodding slowly Dumbledore consider the younger man’s words.

“Then why?”

Harry’s face was no longer Harry’s, but Harold’s again.

“It made no difference. I tried and tried, but in the end... The paradox did exist even though Harold had done the same thing the first time around. It was meant to happen this way…” He halted for a second. “It took me a long time to realize that... Though I did not stop hoping until the very end.”

The two of them were silent for a moment, before Albus decided to ask another question.

“But why did you not joining us?”

Harold shrugged.

“At the time the war began I was quite sure, that nothing I would do would change anything. Something as drastic as changing sides might have worked… but I couldn’t.”

He gave a mirthless laugh.

“I simply couldn’t.”

“You loved him.”

“Yes, and I still do.”

Albus nodded to himself again, he knew what it was like to love a dark lord. It was a bitter irony, that they would always be defeated by those who loved them

Harold continued to talk.

“I could not leave him, even as his humanity was slowly dying away as he kept destroying his soul… Not even when it meant drenching my hands in the blood of innocents.”

Then he looked up and met Albus gaze head on.

“You yourself once said, that love was the most terrible magic of them all.”

They said in silence. Albus contemplating his once protégées words and Harold gently cradling the Horcrux and waiting for the man he loved to die.

“You should probably go Albus.”

Harold smiled and for a moment he was Harry again.

“He won’t like seeing you here.”

The old wizard inclined his head and left, leaving Harold Evans and the Horcrux alone at the clouded King’s Cross station.

\--

It was only a short time later that another figure appeared. This one was a young man, with unruly black hair who walked towards Harold with an air of easy confidence.

“He already left?”

Harold hummed. “Yes, I thought he would insist on staying, but it seems like I underestimated him…”  
The other man chuckled.

“It’s the robes I tell you, no one can take him completely serious when he is wearing those robes.”

Harold turned his head sideways and looked at the stranger who plopped down next to him gracelessly.

“You really think that the robes are the reason why everything he plans seems to work out?”

James Potter grinned and nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, one day you will understand the power of outlandish clothing, my son.”

Harold raised his eyebrows.

“My dear boy, you do realize that I am older than you?”

The other man shrugged.

“That does not stop me from being your father!”

They both laughed.

After a while they fell silent.

“So what brought you here James?”

The other one did not answer for a moment, then he hummed softly and used his left hand to mess up his already messy hair even more. Harold smiled at the gesture.

“I came to say goodbye.”

Harold looked startled, but James waved his hand and continued.

“Well, I don’t think it’s really goodbye. But given the fact that Voldemort will be here soon, I think you will stay with him…”

A nod confirmed the question.

“So… I thought that I should come and tell you, that that’s fine. I don’t mind, neither does your mother... well Sirius does not quite know what to think, but since Remus just arrived, he is busy. Lily wanted to come as well…” James shrugged. “Well, but Snivelous died, so she went to meet him.”

Harold chuckled at the nickname, and the Horcrux baby cooed up at him as he felt the vibrations.

“And…” James made a dramatic pause. “I came to pick him up.” He gestured towards the Horcrux and for the first time in a long time the former necromancer was truly surprised.

“Why?”

His father grinned.

“Well it wasn’t planned when I came here, but given what you will have to deal with soon… A baby, Horcrux or not won’t help you on that front. So, Lily and I will take care of it until you come and pick it up.”

The grin on the man’s face got wider.

“I swear we will take care of it as if it was our own… And given that he is our quasi son-in-law.”

At the last words Harold’s eyes went as wide as golf balls, causing James to laugh out loud.

\--

When Lord Voldemort opened his eyes again, there was nothing around him but darkness. At first heed, about what happened and where he was, but then the memory returned to him and he wished he could forget.

The green light of his own killing curse being returned to him. He should have believed Potter when the boy told him, that he was not the master of the elder wand. But it was too late now. He was… dead. All his safeguards had failed him. And dying – he realized had been surprisingly easy. Except for the terror he had felt when he saw the green light rush into his direction, he had felt nothing at all.

He should have expected it. After all the killing curse ended at live by separating the soul from the body. There were no visible signs.

For an unforgivable curse the Avada Kedavra was surprisingly humane, he mused.

He remembered being told that dying was easier then falling asleep a long time ago. He remembered laughing and cursing the person who had dared to suggest such a thing.

“Easier than falling asleep…” The words sounded foreign coming from his lips and he closed his eyes, only for a second before the sound of another voice, one so achingly familiar, caused him to snap them open again at sit up, turning towards the person who had spoken.

“I told you so.”

This action caused his hair to fall into his eyes and for a second he was stumped by the realization, that he did indeed had hair.

“What is wrong Tom?”

Pushing aside the fact, that he seemed to be in his human body again, he returned his attention towards the person who had spoken.

Unruly black hair falling nearly onto his shoulders, for once not tamed in a ponytail, sparkling green eyes in the color of the curse that had ended his live and a teasing smirk, that he had nearly forgotten.

“Harold…”

After such a long time, the once so familiar name sounded strange on his tongue.

The man’s smirk turned into a smile, which made his whole face soften. “You do remember me Voldemort?”

Another memory, the last one he had of meeting this man alive for the last time flashed through his mind, and he remembered his anger and the feel of his magic rushing through his body, as he held him under the cruciatus curse. Then another, the same man slumped over his desk. So very lifeless, dead.

But the tone in which his chosen name was said, awoke memories of another man. Harry Potter. He looked at Harold again, who was still waiting for an answer, a sad smile playing on his lips.

“Potter.”

The man nodded slowly.

“Yes. A long time ago, that was my name.”

“You are alive.” He knew Potter was alive, he had not been hit with the killing curse after all, but how was it possible that Potter was here and why did he look like Harold. Then he realized what the man had said. That Potter had been his name a long, long time ago. And the mudbloods maiden name had been Evans. He remembered Snape talking about her.

“You are…”

Harold, Potter, or whoever he was, nodded again. “Yes, my lord. Harold Evans was Harry Potter.”

“Then it was all a lie?”

He did not like, how vulnerable his voice sounded. He had not shown any emoting of this kind for a long time. Not since, Harold had dies and even before that only sparingly. They were a weakness after all.

Harold chuckled. “I wish.”

Voldemort’s gaze snapped up the meet the gaze of the man he had once trusted above all else, the man who had killed him.

“It would be a lot easier, if it was. Do you remember when I came to Hogwarts?”

Voldemort nodded.

“I tried to kill you.”

He blinked and Harold chuckled upon seeing his surprise.

“I do concede that I was not very successful, but I did try. I thought I could save them all, but in the end…”

He shrugged a gesture that was very familiar to Voldemort.

“In the end I was… your most trusted, was I not? My place was on your side. The fact that it was the last place I wanted to be when I found myself in the past did not matter. Time works in strange ways does it not?”

The two men stared at each other.

“It was not a lie, Tom.” Harold’s gaze was earnest. “Even if I sometimes felt like I was killing a part of myself when doing your bidding. It was my place…” His lips curled into a sneer, and expression he had seen on Harold’s face occasionally, but never on Potter’s. “My destiny if you will.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Harold held out his hand to pull Voldemort to his feed.

“There are things I have done that I will always regret, but in the end I would do everything the way I did it the first time around again. After all…” His smile returned, and it was a warm smile, one Voldemort had not realized he had missed until now. “I was happy.”

Voldemort hesitated only for a second longer before grasping the proffered hand.

“Happy? You died Harold.”

“Ah yes, but so did you, and I was right was I not?”

Voldemort heaved a sight. There were things he had not missed at all.

“Yes you were. Easier than falling asleep, who would have guessed…”

Harold laughed, but did not let go of the dark Lords hand, he simply started to walk.

Voldemort watched their intertwined fingers.

“Why am I here? I created a Horcrux, I should spend eternity in limbo.”

Harold looked back to him but did not stop walking. “Who says that this isn’t limbo?”

Voldemort stopped and his companion was forced to come to a halt as well. They stood a meter away from each other, their interlinked fingers between them.

“Then why are you here?”

Harold’s smile was warm, it was the smile that Voldemort had never seen, only Tom Riddle ever had, and for a second he wondered where the distinction between the two of them was. Which Horcrux had it been that had made him Lord Voldemort, but also stopped him from being Tom Riddle. The Tom Riddle, whom Harold had cared for.

“I am here Tom, because I choose to be.”

Voldemort looked away from his partners earnest face and glanced back onto their hands again.

“Why would you choose to be here?”

The other male chuckled and started walking again, tugging him along.

“Who else but me will help you put your soul together again? Dumbledore?”

“My soul?”

Harold nodded, but Voldemort could not see his face as he was still walking behind the man.

“Your soul.”

“I will spent eternity in limbo, it is the consequence of creating a horcrux, you know that Harold, you did read the books as well.”

Now Harold looked back at him over his shoulder.

“Where is the problem Tom?”

He had always been this frustrating and Voldemort fought the urge to rip his hand away from the other man’s.

“Your task will never be finished.”

The smile was back again, warm, protective and... loving.

“Ah, but I always wanted eternity with you.”

They stopped again and stared at each other for a long moment. Harold was still smiling and for the first time in long, long time, so long he could not remember the last time he did so, Tom Riddle smiled back.


End file.
